


Dinorei Ashal'dala

by RaeDMagdon



Series: Make Me Forget [7]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, And interruptions by Mom of course, Biting, F/F, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Rutting, Some plot development too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Sylvanas travels to Kul Tiras, intending to show Jaina a mysterious weapon... but ends up quite distracted.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Series: Make Me Forget [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305800
Comments: 91
Kudos: 454





	Dinorei Ashal'dala

Sylvanas sat upon her throne, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, as she examined the mysterious dagger known as Xal’atath. Pleased though she was to possess such a powerful weapon, she found the way it returned her stare quite unnerving. Its crossguard resembled a piercing blue eye, and strange runes of the same shade glowed along the blade’s jagged, obsidian surface.

Xal’atath wasn’t the most beautiful weapon Sylvanas had ever owned, nor was it the ugliest. It was awfully dark and spiky, but so was most of her armor, as well as the majority of the decor in her throne room. Perhaps the dagger suited her aesthetic after all.  _ Not that it matters, as long as it does its job…  _

“Dark Lady?”

Sylvanas lifted her gaze from the blade, unsurprised by the interruption. No one else would have heard Anya’s silent footfalls, but she had trained all of her Dark Rangers personally. “What do you think of this?” she asked, holding out the dagger for Anya to examine.

Anya did not take Xal’atath from Sylvanas’s outstretched hand, but studied it with the discernment of one who spent a great deal of time around weapons. “An unsettling blade,” she murmured. Her ears shifted forward into an alert, possibly wary position. “It has a disquieting aura, if you’ll forgive my saying so.”

“I agree.” Sylvanas returned Xal’atath to its scabbard, feeling an immediate sense of relief. Though something about the blade called to her, urging her to keep it close, she had interacted with a great deal of magical objects over the centuries. This type of power was different than any she had yet encountered.

“Where did you acquire such a thing, my lady?” Anya asked.

Sylvanas smirked, for it was quite the tale. “Some of my Horde champions re-discovered it while slaying Azshara’s naga in Zandalar. Apparently, this dagger was once host to a sentient being, but that being has since fled… after betraying my champions to N’Zoth at the Crucible of Storms in exchange for its freedom.”

Anya’s eyes widened. “N’Zoth has finally made himself known, then? Outside of the abominations that crawl Kalimdor’s coasts, I mean.”

“Indeed,” Sylvanas said, “but I consider this to be good fortune. According to legend, Xal’atath contains echoes of Old God power. Another of my champions wielded it for a time during the Legion’s invasion, with devastating results for the demons. In the right hands, it may bring an end to N’Zoth himself.”

Upon hearing that bit of news, Anya’s face broke into a rare smile. “Truly?”

Sylvanas nodded. “Some say Xal’atath’s blade was forged from the claw of Y’Shaarj. It makes a certain morbid sense, that the remains of one Old God might be the only artifact in existence capable of ending another.”

“You might consider informing your Lord-Admiral,” Anya suggested. “Her knowledge of the arcane is unmatched. Perhaps she could confirm whether such a weapon is capable of destroying N’Zoth?”

Sylvanas ignored the last part of the statement, so surprised was she by Anya’s choice of words. _Did she say_ ‘your’ _Lord-Admiral?_ _Since when has Anya grown so bold? Is that how all of my Dark Rangers are referring to Jaina these days?_

Though inappropriate, the thought was also intriguing; so intriguing that it almost made Sylvanas stiffen inside her breeches.  _ My Lord-Admiral. _ She couldn’t deny that some possessive part of her enjoyed the sound of those words strung together. Still, Anya could not be allowed to think so.  _ “The _ Lord-Admiral might, yes,” she replied, with particular emphasis on the article.

Anya’s ears drooped. Her eyes darted down to the dusty tips of her boots. “My apologies, Dark Lady.”

“You are dismissed, Anya,” Sylvanas said, uncrossing her legs and rising from her throne in one fluid motion. “Inform Saurfang that he is in command of Orgrimmar until I return.” She caressed Xal’atath’s pommel lovingly, without drawing the blade from its scabbard. “I shall bring this new treasure of mine to the Lord-Admiral myself.”

***

It began as a subtle itch. A certain restlessness that crawled beneath Jaina’s skin. She retired her greatcoat to the bedroom closet despite the cooling temperature, favoring a thin white sailor’s shirt as Kul Tiras transitioned from summer to autumn. Its fabric was often damp, clinging uncomfortably to the small of her back. And that was to say nothing about the state of her smallclothes.

She drank potions. Lots of them. Tides-cursed things weren’t much better than water, and tasted foul no matter what ingredients she added to disguise the flavor.

At night, she kicked off all the sheets, tossing and turning in an effort to cool down. She barely slept, though she did dream: sweaty, fevered fantasies in which a purple shadow with glowing rubies for eyes pinned her down and fucked her with a snap of hips and teeth. On the rare occasions she drifted into a fitful doze, she woke rubbing against a pillow, or with a hand cupped between her own trembling thighs.

Over the course of three days, correspondences piled up. Innocent interlopers were snarled and snapped at until they had the good sense to retreat. Even Katherine kept her distance—not that Jaina could blame her. Surely no alpha parent wanted to witness their omega daughter throwing minor tantrums, wearing as little clothing as possible, and stinking of sex besides.

“Perhaps you should take an early night, dear,” Katherine suggested on the third evening of Jaina’s torment. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from the cold eel pie in the middle of the table, which she had been about to slice before Jaina interrupted with a rumbling protest.

Jaina swallowed the growl brewing in her chest and offered a sheepish smile. She nudged the pie toward Katherine, blushing as she did. There was no need to fight for her share like some sort of stray dog. She would never be denied her favorite dessert among family.

Katherine sliced, plated, and presented Jaina with a large piece first thing, assuaging the worst of her gluttonous greed. “Thanks,” she said, already distracted by the sight and sound of her own fork cutting through the flaky crust. Her mouth watered with anticipation.

“Save some for the rest of us, Mum,” Tandred said, “or she’ll scoff everything but the tin.”

Jaina rolled her eyes, but she had better things to do with her mouth than argue, like stuffing in forkfuls of eel pie and trying not to moan. There was only one thing she would rather have in her mouth at the moment, and it wasn’t currently at the dinner table.  _ Thank the Tides. If Sylvanas  _ was _ here, I’d… _

So engrossed was she in imagining all the things she would do if Sylvanas magically appeared before her, Jaina almost missed Derek’s contribution. “Lay off. She’s obviously having a rough cycle.” Though gaunter than he had once been, with noticeably sallow skin, there was still something warm and familiar in the sympathetic smile he offered. 

Tandred pulled a face. “Eugh. She’s our  _ sister, _ Derek.”

“Enough, Tandred,” Katherine said. “Leave Jaina be and eat that slice of pie you were so concerned about moments ago.”

Jaina finished wolfing down her own slice and peered hopefully at the tin for seconds. Katherine cut another piece and passed it over without comment.

“I don’t see why she should get special treatment for something that happens twice a year,” Tandred grumbled.

Jaina glowered around a full mouth. She swallowed and said, “Special treatment? You remember I was banished from Kul Tiras for years and sentenced to death when I came back, don’t you?” Katherine’s brow furrowed with sadness, causing her to regret the words as soon as she said them. “Sorry, Mum.”

“No, it’s true,” Katherine said, raising her chin and tightening her jaw in the good old Kul Tiran, we-must-carry-on sort of way. “An extra slice of pie is the least you deserve from me.”

The table fell into an awkward silence, one that almost took away Jaina’s appetite. Almost.

“Things have definitely improved since then,” Derek said. “I’m back, for one.”

“Yes, you are.” Katherine’s face softened into a smile. “For which we’re all very grateful.”

The mood at table lightened considerably, with Derek and Katherine carrying the conversation while Tandred interjected his usual quips. Jaina kept quiet, though she forced herself to smile and nod once in a while. The burn in her stomach was temporarily assuaged, but its true source was elsewhere, and not so easily quenched. Not without help, anyway.

_ It wouldn’t be out of line to drop in on Sylvanas unannounced, would it? We have an understanding. Maybe I should invite her here? No, that’s ridiculous. Surely the Warchief is too busy to make recreational trips, even by portal… but I won’t know unless I ask, will I? _

And there was quite a lot to gain by asking. The cool press of Sylvanas’s body atop hers. The sharp graze of fangs against her skin. The possessive rake of claws across her flesh. The soft suction of Sylvanas’s mouth, the insistent press of her fingers, the girth of her cock— 

“Jaina? Jaina!”

She blinked, then glared at Tandred. “What?”

“Yes,” Katherine said, offering the correction automatically.

Tandred snickered. “You must really need a good roll. Your face is redder than a blood moon and I’ve said your name five times.”

“Tandred!” Katherine gasped.

Jaina was sorely tempted to throw an ice lance across the table, just to teach her obnoxious little brother a lesson. Instead, she pushed back her chair and stood, offering her mother a tight smile. “I think I’ll take an early night after all. Tandred isn’t wrong, though I wouldn’t put it quite so crudely.”

_ No, I don’t need a roll. What I need is a bone-shattering, brain-melting fuck. From one alpha in particular. _

“Go on then, dear,” Katherine said. “The boys can handle the dishes.”

“Make the servants do it,” Tandred protested.

Katherine’s eyes flashed. “The servants have enough work without you leaving dirty dishes everywhere. The least you can do is return them to the kitchen and load them into that goblin contraption your sister bought.”

Another evening, Jaina might have spared a moment of pride for the new dishwasher she had talked her mother into installing at Proudmoore Keep. Tonight, she was too distracted. She left Tandred pouting and Derek gathering plates, untucking her shirt from her breeches as soon as she escaped into the hallway. A cold shower was certainly in order, since she’d already sweated through another set of clothes.

***

Sylvanas took a deep breath of crisp Kul Tiran air, inhaling the smell of the ocean overtop damp wood. Despite traveling to Boralus by portal, she’d ended up near the docks anyway. The scent of the sea was everywhere, interspersed with fish, horses, and numerous people. Not so different from Orgrimmar, in that respect.

She pulled her cloak further over her head, concealing her face in shadow. Though the Horde and the Alliance had been allies for almost a year, old grudges lingered. Best not advertise that she was Forsaken or be mistaken for a blood elf, let alone reveal herself as Warchief. 

No one paid her any mind as she strode out of the dockmaster’s office and onto the bustling street, sticking close to the buildings to avoid oblivious passersby. Without her armor and honor guard, she was practically invisible. Cities, Alliance or Horde, human or Forsaken, were all the same. Most people were too wrapped up in themselves to notice anyone else.

Spotting the turrets of Proudmoore Keep in the distance, Sylvanas ambled in that direction, pondering how to announce herself. She could inform whichever bewildered servant had the misfortune of answering the door, but her mischievous side wondered whether it might be more fun to sneak in. A little payback for Jaina’s blatant disregard of Orgrimmar’s magical wards. Mages weren’t the only ones who could access forbidden places. Besides, it had been a while since her last stealth mission. She couldn’t allow the burdens of leadership to leave her rusty.

Proudmoore Keep was adequately staffed, for a place of its size and importance, but Sylvanas found it all too easy to slip past the guards standing watch at the portcullis. Ignoring them, she continued on to an empty patch of wall, where she began her ascent. The climb was slightly more difficult. No ordinary mortal could have managed it unaided, but Sylvanas was far from ordinary. She hooked her claws into shallow divots between the stones, hauling herself up with unnatural strength.

Soon, she was strolling along the parapets, avoiding watchmen as though it were second nature. Because, of course, it was. She melted into the shadows to conceal herself from patrolling pairs, most of whom chatted about subjects of little substance and less consequence.

Once she was alone, Sylvanas slipped down the nearest staircase and into the Keep’s grounds. There were less guards to dodge inside, which was fortunate, because her concentration wavered as a warm evening breeze carried an all too familiar scent into her nose.

_ Jaina? _

There was no doubt in her mind. It had to be Jaina. Jaina, smelling like all the best parts of the sea overlaid with the distinctive scent of sex. Sylvanas’s eyes widened. Her cock strained against the front of her pants, suddenly threatening to burst through. Since when had a mere smell gotten her fully hard in a matter of moments? Of course she knew the answer, reluctant as she was to admit it: since she’d started fucking Jaina.

And this would be no ordinary fuck. Unless she missed her guess, her lover was in heat. Sylvanas hadn’t thought to keep track of Jaina’s cycle, but now that she considered it, the timing made sense. She followed her nose, forgetting all attempts at stealth as she hurried toward the keep’s main building.

She circled the walls until she found the place where the scent was strongest: beneath a window that glowed with faint, flickering candlelight. Her heart gave a sluggish thump within her breast. The mere thought of seeing Jaina made her feel alive in ways she was still adjusting to, but had long since stopped fighting against.

Her second climb was quick and efficient. She scaled the wall like a spider, pausing only when she arrived at the window. The sight within struck her utterly dumb. Jaina lay splayed upon a bed, one hand buried between perfectly plump thighs. Her hair was a riotous storm of white and gold around her head, her breasts soft teardrops that swayed with each thrust and arch. Her skin glowed in the candlelight and her face twisted into an expression of agonized pleasure.

A shudder rolled through Sylvanas’s body, beginning in her core and spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes. She burned. She craved. She hungered like a woman starved, though she hadn’t needed food in years. She opened the window with shadowy purple tendrils and pulled herself through, unfastening her fly without conscious thought.

This was going to be a  _ very _ enjoyable visit.

***

Jaina panted through damp strands of hair stuck to her lips, pumping her fingers furiously between her legs. The past several hours had been awful. No matter what means she used—magical vibrations, riding her mirror image’s face—the fire within her blazed unimpeded. Her clit ached from overstimulation, yet she couldn’t stop rubbing. Her inner walls clenched, searching for the brutal stretch that would ease her pain, but two, three, even four fingers weren’t enough.

“Sylvanas,” she groaned, muffling the noise as best she could in the pillowcase. She bit down instinctively, wishing for cool, yielding flesh between her teeth instead of fabric. Her limbs went rigid as another climax crashed over her, but no wave of relief followed. She jerked helplessly into her own hand, whining around a futile bitehold.

Sobbing with frustration, she yanked her dripping fingers away and gripped the sweat-soaked sheets, arching against empty air. Making herself come was all but useless. Only Sylvanas could soothe her pain. Only Sylvanas could quench the fire in her core. Only Sylvanas could ease the ache that gripped her between the legs and  _ pulled _ like a thing possessed… 

“Screaming my name as usual, I see.”

Jaina jerked upright, her heart battering against her ribs. Was it truly Sylvanas, or a fever dream? The scent of alpha desire that curled into her nose told her it was real, but she didn’t fully believe it until Sylvanas emerged from a shadow by the open window, stepping out from behind a fluttering curtain. Her red eyes glowed in the dimly lit room and she ran a dark purple tongue over gleaming white teeth.

“You came,” Jaina gasped, fighting a smile. Everything about Sylvanas—her scent, her face, her fluid movements—was so beautiful she could hardly stand to look. And yet, she couldn’t bear to look away.

“Not yet.” Sylvanas stalked toward the bed, looming over Jaina like a famished beast. “Soon.”

Jaina was far too impatient to be prey. She slid her hand along Sylvanas’s stomach, down to her open fly and the thick shaft jutting out of the alpha’s leathers. Her fingers were already slick with her own arousal as she stroked, and Sylvanas approved, judging by the hitch in her chest.

“I don’t care why you’re here,” Jaina said. “Fuck me.  _ Now.” _

Sylvanas laughed, low and dark. “As my lady wishes.” She seized Jaina’s ankles, pinning her knees to her chest and spreading her legs wide.

Jaina was so distracted by the press of Sylvanas’s body atop hers that she barely felt the stretch in her thighs. Her entire world centered between her legs as the broad head of Sylvanas’s cock slid through her wetness, searching for her opening.

The first thrust was bliss. It was everything Jaina needed, but hadn’t been able to achieve on her own. A full-throated cry tore from them both as Sylvanas snapped her hips, joining their bodies in a single stroke. There was no resistance. Jaina’s muscles seized as they adjusted to the new, breathtaking fullness.

_ “Dal anar’alah,” _ Sylvanas growled, dragging cool lips along the column of Jaina’s throat. “How are you tighter every time I fuck you?” She sank her teeth into Jaina’s shoulder, and Jaina whimpered, frustrated that she wasn’t at the right angle to return the favor. All she could do was bear down on Sylvanas’s cock and hope the alpha would fuck her harder.

The leather of Sylvanas’s breeches rubbed against Jaina’s inner thighs, but even that mild discomfort was arousing, somehow. A reminder that Sylvanas was still clothed, while she was not. She was completely vulnerable before an alpha who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of her helpless state.

“Deeper,” she begged, flexing her calves against Sylvanas’s grip. She longed to wrap her legs around Sylvanas’s waist, to press a heel into the small of her back and urge her on.

Sylvanas’s eyes flashed. She released Jaina’s ankles, only to seize them with two shadowy tendrils. They wound around Jaina’s legs, sliding along her skin like oily water, but with a curious firmness to their core. No matter how she struggled, the tendrils were stronger. There was no fighting them off without magic, although the last thing she wanted to do was escape.

Sylvanas curled her claws around Jaina’s upper thighs, leaning forward to whisper beside her ear. “I should wait to knot you. Make you earn it.”

“No,” Jaina demanded. “Knot me  _ now.” _

“Not yet.” Sylvanas pumped faster, dragging her cockhead against Jaina’s front wall with every stroke. The shadowy tendrils tightened around Jaina’s ankles, and Sylvanas’s cool breath hit her throat in ragged bursts. “First, come for me.”

It was quick, rough, and brutal—exactly what Jaina needed. She came, rippling around Sylvanas’s length and clawing at the covers. The heat that had swelled inside her for three agonizing days unleashed in a flood, gushing around the base of Sylvanas’s shaft and forming a puddle on the mattress. Only then did she surrender, sinking into sweet relief.

***

When Jaina came, Sylvanas forgot all her plans. She forgot her desire to tease; to torment Jaina the same way the omega’s scent and voice and soft blue eyes constantly tormented her. Instead, the urge to claim blazed through her body, devouring down to her very bones. 

It was wildfire. It was the sun. It was a hundred times hotter than Jaina’s heat or her last  _ quel’felo, _ and it came upon Sylvanas so suddenly that there was no possible way to resist. Jaina’s flesh, so pale and pliant. The  _ smell _ of her, all pleading omega. Dizzying. Captivating. Sylvanas came fast, hard, and without warning, spilling deep inside Jaina before she could even give voice to her pleasure.

Jaina had no such trouble. “Fuck,  _ Sylvanas!” _ Despite her prone position, with both legs pushed back, she clutched Sylvanas’s arms, raking her nails along the flexing muscles.

The shallow lines weren’t painful, thanks to Sylvanas’s sleeves, but they made her cock pulse. She buried herself as deep as possible, snarling in frustration as she emptied. She’d been so wrapped up in Jaina’s orgasm, and then her own, that she hadn’t noticed her knot forming. Now, it prevented her from gaining maximum depth. Damn. She’d timed it all wrong, like a clumsy pup fumbling through their first rut.

With a pained groan, she withdrew from the clinging heat of Jaina’s cunt. To pull out was torture, but she had no choice. Rapidly fading logic told her that she couldn’t try again until her knot shrank a little… unless Jaina was prepared to take a great deal of pain in pursuit of pleasure.

From the look of her, Jaina might have agreed. Her skin shone with sweat. Most of her hair had escaped its loose braid, clinging to her damp forehead. The rosy pink tips of her breasts strained against empty air, as if pleading to be sucked, and her clit was so swollen that the hood had retracted into a puffy sort of collar.

Staring between Jaina’s legs, Sylvanas forgot her regrets. Another urge overcame her, every bit as powerful as the desire to rut: the overwhelming need to taste what she had taken. She used the shadow tendrils to pull Jaina’s legs over her shoulders, ducking beneath the omega’s knees and burying her face without warning.

Jaina’s hands shot down, pushing down Sylvanas’s hood to grasp fistfuls of her loose hair.  _ “Fucking shit!” _

Sylvanas huffed, but didn’t fight for freedom. She was utterly consumed by the smell, feel, and taste of Jaina’s silken flesh beneath her tongue. It was paradise; everything she hungered for and more—and the taste of her own come leaking out only made it better. She licked and sucked with utter selfishness, too overwhelmed to concern herself with Jaina’s pleasure.

In the end, Sylvanas’s greed hardly mattered. Jaina came a second time, wailing loud enough to make a banshee proud. Her stomach rolled. Her pelvis jerked. Her body arched. She tensed, spilling a river of warmth into Sylvanas’s mouth and down her chin.

Sylvanas opened wide, desperate to capture as much as she could. Her tongue quested, searching for the spots that made Jaina scream and shudder—not to satisfy the omega writhing beneath her, but because it coaxed forth even more sweetness. She circled Jaina’s clit relentlessly, sucking the stiff bundle until Jaina begged her to stop.

“Too much. Please, I can’t…not again…”

Sylvanas disagreed. Tasting one orgasm wasn’t nearly enough. She ignored Jaina’s protests, dragging her fangs lightly along the swollen shaft of Jaina’s clit before sliding her tongue deep inside. Jaina’s soft inner walls spasmed, and Sylvanas was rewarded with another slick burst of heat.

She soon lost count of how many times Jaina came. The number didn’t matter. Only Jaina’s fingers, tugging insistently at her hair, mattered. Only Jaina’s desperate, high-pitched cries mattered. Only Jaina’s constantly rolling hips, always seeking more of her mouth, mattered. Sylvanas devoured her omega with lips, tongue, and teeth, unable and unwilling to be torn away.

Only when Jaina collapsed onto the mattress with a soft, despondent moan did Sylvanas break from her feast. Jaina’s chest heaved with ragged breaths. She lay still otherwise, limbs trembling, face flushed, eyes closed. “I’m dead,” she slurred. “You killed me.”

Sylvanas would have laughed at Jaina’s emphatic declaration, were it not for a sharp pang between her own legs. Her cock was harder than ever, aching to bury somewhere warm and wet. She peeled apart the outer lips of Jaina’s pussy with her thumbs, examining the gleaming, angry red inner ones. 

The sight sent another lance of pressure along her shaft. Jaina was visibly overstimulated already, but Sylvanas wasn’t sure if she could resist such an intoxicating sight. “You can take more,” she said, kissing and nipping her way up Jaina’s shivering body. “But if your cunt needs rest, I can fuck your ass instead.”

“Yes—no…” Jaina hooked both knees around Sylvanas’s hips, dragging their pelvises together. 

Sylvanas gave a full body jerk as Jaina’s slick heat coated the underside of her cock. “Which is it? Yes or no?”

Jaina tangled a hand in Sylvanas’s hair again, guiding her mouth to a puffy pink nipple. “Pussy first,” she said, digging her heel into the small of Sylvanas’s back. “Ass later.”

Sylvanas saw no reason to argue. The moment Jaina’s silken walls parted for her, wrapping impossibly tight around her length, she lost all sense of restraint. She braced her elbows on the mattress and made a hammer of her hips, pounding with every ounce of strength her undead body possessed.

***

_ Ohshit. _

Jaina fisted the back of Sylvanas’s cloak, frustrated by the fabric that remained in her way. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the wherewithal to remove it, or any of Sylvanas’s clothes for that matter.

_ Fff… fuck, she’s so… so fucking...  _

Her thoughts bent like light through a prism, splitting into all sorts of foggy, beautiful colors. 

_ Hnn. So big. So  _ fucking _ big. But… I need… more…  _

In her delirious state, Jaina struggled to understand what ‘more’ meant. She was already full of Sylvanas’s cock, each thrust more blissful than the last. She was well on her way to having Sylvanas’s knot as well. It rubbed insistently at her entrance, sinking deeper with each determined snap of Sylvanas’s hips.

But that wasn’t it. She needed something else, something ethereal she couldn’t quite name…

_ Mate. Want her as my mate. Want to claim her. Let her claim me. _

Perhaps she could name the ‘something’ after all, and was simply terrified of what it meant. She hadn’t entertained those thoughts about anyone in well over a decade. Not since…

But there wasn’t much room for fear in the red haze that had once been her mind. Jaina soon forgot  _ why _ wanting Sylvanas to be her mate, instead of merely her lover, was a terrible idea. There were a whole host of reasons, she was sure, but she couldn’t for the life of her recall any.

_ “Dalah Dal’alah,”  _ Sylvanas growled against Jaina’s sternum, in the middle of kissing across to her other breast.  _ “Dinorei ashal’dala ana fin talahdin belore.” _

_ My Starlight. Keep you for mine until the last sun dies. _

The phrasing was archaic, but Jaina understood the sentiment. She understood and rejoiced. She didn’t care if it was Sylvanas’s rut-brain talking. She didn’t care if her heat had manipulated Sylvanas into saying such sweet things. She didn’t care whether either of them might regret it later. She clung to Sylvanas with all she was, offering everything she had.

Her reward was the thickness of Sylvanas’s knot finally pushing inside and the sharp sting of fangs piercing her left breast. She came again, in utter silence this time, her cries lost somewhere between the incredible stretch and her own unwillingness to make any sound that might overlay the lovely words.

She needn’t have worried. Sylvanas, it seemed, had an ample supply.  _ “Ban shindu ashal’o. Noral dalah’zaram.” _

If Jaina hadn’t already been doing just that—coming on Sylvanas’s cock—the alpha’s urging would have dragged her into another shuddering peak. Instead, she tightened her inner walls around Sylvanas’s knot, replying in Common. “You, too. Come inside me. I need to feel you.”

Sylvanas went rigid, shifting her bitehold to Jaina’s shoulder. Her knot throbbed, and she spilled in sharp bursts, keeping her face buried in the curve of Jaina’s throat the whole time.

A satisfied smile spread across Jaina’s face. Yes! This was  _ exactly _ what she needed: Sylvanas, coming deep inside her, cleaving to her as if their parting would bring about the end of the world. It drove her mad to think that Sylvanas needed her every bit as much as she needed Sylvanas, but it was the best kind of madness. For a few fleeting moments, she could pretend. She could indulge in the happy, if fantastical wish that they might be… more.

***

The next several minutes were a heated blur, but Sylvanas was certain of one thing. Jaina made sure she enjoyed every moment to the fullest. The omega’s hands were everywhere, tugging at her clothes with increasing urgency until, in a fit of frustration, she vanished them away.

Briefly, Sylvanas was startled— _ Xal’atath was strapped to my back!— _ until Jaina mumbled something that sounded like, “Pocket dimension,” and resumed kissing her, taking advantage of Sylvanas’s newfound nakedness to grip two handfuls of her rear.

Sylvanas relaxed and gave in. She kissed Jaina through the final eddies of their orgasm, only breaking away to allow her an opportunity to breathe. A primal voice that dwelled deep within told her that she had done well. She had knotted and filled her omega. She had left plenty of marks and bruises, as well as her own scent, to ward off challengers. Jaina’s lower belly was curved and taut against her own, which only stoked her pride further. Oh, how lovely Jaina would look, full and rounded with a litter of her pups… 

Only then did Sylvanas recall exactly what she had said at the height of passion.

It had seemed the most natural thing in the world at the time. Of  _ course _ she wanted to keep Jaina until the sun’s dying day. Jaina was hers, after all. Her omega. But emptying her cock had restored some small portion of her brains, and Sylvanas found herself quietly mortified. She was far too old and battleworn for such foolish fantasies, heatstruck or no. Hormones were no excuse.

_ So, what should I do? Dismiss it as pillow talk? Say nothing? Hope Jaina’s Thalassian is as bad as she always claims? _

Dying had been awful, but this? This was quite possibly worse.

The smug look on Jaina’s face didn’t make the situation any easier. “So…  _ Starlight? _ Cute. Are you sure that’s what you want to call the woman who almost drowned your entire city?”

Sylvanas scoffed. She very much wished she could pull out, and maybe throw herself through the open window to her doom as well, but the tie made that impossible. She silently cursed her knot for taking so long to shrink. “I have never once mentioned your halfhearted attempt to flood Orgrimmar.  _ You _ are the one who constantly brings it up.”

“It never hurts to remind you what I’m capable of,” Jaina said, peering up into Sylvanas’s eyes. Her expression remained amused, but her brow line was also strangely soft. Sympathetic, perhaps? It made Sylvanas’s stomach twist in ways that weren’t entirely unpleasant. “Can’t have you forgetting I’m the most powerful mage on Azeroth just because I said something embarrassing, or you’ve had your cock in my ass.”

Sylvanas struggled to subdue the nervous twitch of her ears. She understood what Jaina was trying to say, and though it prodded her vulnerable pride, it also allowed her to breathe an internal sigh of relief. At the very least, Jaina wouldn’t think her weak for a small, rut-induced slip, which she would fervently claim the confession was if challenged.

“Your not-so-subtle request has been noted, Lord-Admiral,” she drawled, “but that particular vessel is currently deployed elsewhere. I advise patience.”

Jaina laced her fingers through Sylvanas’s, guiding them to where their bodies were joined, and lower still. “No need for a battleship when a frigate will do.”

Sylvanas chuckled, her heightened nerves receding into languid contentment once more. Languid contentment, underlaid by the renewed burn of arousal. It seemed she could never get enough of Jaina, even after having her fill in a variety of ways. “One of these days, your horrendous sense of humor will be the death of me.”

It was Jaina’s turn to scoff. “The death of you?  _ Really?” _

“Enough of your smart mouth,  _ kim falo’ban.”  _ Sylvanas captured Jaina’s lips in another kiss, putting her fingers to good use. If all went to plan, she would have Jaina begging again in short order, and fuck all recollection of previous passionate declarations from her mind.

***

Jaina lay naked in the nest of covers she and Sylvanas had made themselves, idly twirling Xal’atath in one hand. She found herself oddly fascinated by the way the afternoon light from the open window bounced off the obsidian blade, highlighting its curious blue runes.

“It has a powerful arcane aura,” she mused, turning it this way and that. The runes shifted, spelling out words in a language she couldn’t understand. Not without the many books and scrolls at her disposal, anyway.

Sylvanas yawned. The Warchief lay with her cheek resting on Jaina’s stomach, seeming disinclined to move any time soon. “Any elf could have deciphered the same from several yards away. Might such a weapon put an end to N’Zoth or not?”

“I can’t tell something like that just by looking—”

“But if you had to guess?”

Jaina sighed. “Hmph. And you think  _ I _ lack patience. It’s possible, but I can’t be sure without some good old fashioned research… and probably some experimentation, too.”

“Experimentation,” Sylvanas repeated. “Why does that word sound particularly dangerous coming from you?”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought this little toy to me. Don’t you trust me?” Jaina set the dagger aside and tilted her chin down, shooting Sylvanas a mock innocent look. Sylvanas snapped her pointed teeth dangerously near the unprotected expanse of Jaina’s stomach in answer, and Jaina was hard-pressed to stifle a giggle.

Her, Lord-Admiral of Kul Tiras.  _ Giggling. _ It wouldn’t be the most embarrassing thing she’d done around Sylvanas, she supposed. It wouldn’t even be the most embarrassing thing she’d done around—and for—Sylvanas over the two days they’d spent holed up in her chambers. It was a good thing she knew how to summon water and mana biscuits. Otherwise, she would have been forced to raid the kitchens under cover of night, if she managed to tear herself away from Sylvanas at all.

“I’ll take a more thorough look at it once you leave,” Jaina promised. “Top priority.”

Sylvanas’s eyes flickered like hot coals upon a blazing hearth. “Does that mean I currently rank higher on your priority list, Lord Admiral?”

Jaina fought a smirk. “Not necessarily. But you do know how to make a nuisance of yourself, so I’ve found it’s usually best to handle you first.”

Sylvanas flicked an ear.  _ “Handle _ me? Is that what you have been doing these past two days?”

“Haven’t I?” Jaina ran the tips of her fingers slowly along the same ear, enjoying the way Sylvanas shivered.

That small bit of teasing was all it took. In a flash, she was flat on her back, with Sylvanas’s dark silhouette looming over her. “I believe I have been the one handling you for the most part,  _ omega,” _ Sylvanas purred, pulling Jaina’s legs around her waist. The shaft of her cock stiffened, skimming Jaina’s inner thigh.

For the hundredth time, Jaina surrendered to the persistent fire that burned in her belly. It wasn’t the same wild inferno that had fueled her at the start of her heat, but it was bright and powerful all the same. Sylvanas always seemed to have that effect on her, no matter where they were in their respective cycles.  _ And having my heat trigger her quel’felo was certainly explosive… _

Before she could lose herself in hazy, lustful memories—or even more happily in the present, where Sylvanas was pinning her wrists on either side of her head—a brisk knock sounded upon the bedroom door.

“Jaina? It’s been over two days since you’ve eaten. Open up so I can give you something.”

A shot of ice directly to Jaina’s veins doused the fire there in a single heartbeat. She shot a frightened look at Sylvanas, who seemed mildly perturbed as well.

“Is that…?” Sylvanas whispered.

“My mother,” Jaina mouthed.

Another knock. “Jaina? By all means, take a moment to compose yourself, but I’m not leaving until you open the door.”

Jaina winced, pushing Sylvanas off and rolling out of their comfortable nest. She stumbled over to the closet and snatched her robe from its hook on the door. What in all of Azeroth was she going to tell her mother? Being caught in such a compromising position was embarrassing enough, but with the Warchief of the Horde? That could cause a diplomatic incident! It nearly had the first time. She didn’t want to imagine what the other faction leaders would think if they discovered it was an ongoing relationship…

“Jaina? Are you all right? I’m coming in.”

Sylvanas muttered something foul in Thalassian. She dissolved into an oily trail of smoke, which blew straight past Jaina and through the closet door. Jaina closed it immediately. She couldn’t do anything to remove Sylvanas’s scent, but hiding her was better than nothing… even if it did remind her uncomfortably of her teenage years.

“I’m fine, Mum. Hold on a second.” Sifting fingers through her tangled hair and cinching the cord of her sleep robe tight around her waist, Jaina hurried to the door and opened it.

Katherine strode in, bearing a tray with tea, biscuits, and a steaming bowl of soup that smelled positively delicious. For the first time in days, Jaina’s mouth watered for something other than Sylvanas’s cock.

“I see you’ve been keeping company,” Katherine said, setting the tray on Jaina’s nightstand. She didn’t make a show of sniffing out the other alpha who had obviously been in Jaina’s room, but she didn’t need to. The entire place reeked, and Jaina knew it, despite her own nose having adjusted to the smell of sex. “Where is she, then?”

Jaina scowled, tugging the edges of her robe tighter around her body. “Why do you think they’re a she?”  _ Surely she can’t know it’s Sylvanas, specifically… right? _

Katherine gave her a withering look. “My dear, no one with a working nose could fail to notice.”

“They left,” Jaina lied, squaring her shoulders and giving her mother her most straightforward stare. “Out the window. Since you made a show of barging in.”

Katherine pursed her lips, eyes darting toward the open window. “A mage, then. Or someone very athletic.”

Jaina folded her arms across her chest. The nerve! “Need I remind you that you named  _ me _ Lord Admiral? It’s my Keep now, technically speaking. I can invite whomever I want.”

Katherine looked back at her, arching a silver brow. “My dear, I never said you couldn’t.”

Jaina relaxed her posture. Studying her mother more closely, she wondered if Katherine’s motivations were less protective parental instinct—although there was definitely some of that mixed in—and more of a genuine desire to know about her daughter’s life. Their relationship had improved by leaps and bounds over the past year, but they had a ways to go.

“It was still a knot move, bursting in here to try and catch them, but I’ll introduce you eventually,” Jaina said, with a conciliatory smile. “It’s new. And my last few relationships have… left something to be desired.”

To her relief, Katherine laughed. “As long as you didn’t just let that Sylvanas Windrunner escape through your bedroom window, I don’t care who you bring home, dear.”

Jaina’s heart stopped.  _ “What?” _ she blurted out, her voice rising an entire octave.

“Sorry, poppet,” Katherine said. “I’m afraid I couldn’t avoid hearing last year’s gossip… although it took a few separate sources before I actually believed it.”

“That was an emergency situation,” Jaina insisted. Oh, how she wished she could sink into the floor and disappear rather than drag this conversation out any longer! And yet, she felt the instinctive need to defend her lover—and not merely because Sylvanas was undoubtedly listening from the closet. “Besides, Sylvanas isn’t all that bad. We’re on good terms these days. She’s the one who found and Raised Derek, after all. You should be grateful to her.”

“Oh, I am,” Katherine said. “I owe her a great debt. But there’s a difference between being open to negotiations with a previously hostile faction leader, and knitting her an ugly sweater for Winter’s Veil. Now, if you were to show an interest in a different Windrunner sister… what about the eldest one? Alleria? She’s recently divorced, isn’t she?”

Jaina couldn’t be sure whether it was her imagination, but she thought she heard a low rumble from the direction of the closet. “Mum!” she moaned in dismay, partially to conceal the noise.

Katherine merely pointed at the forgotten tray of tea and biscuits on Jaina’s nightstand. “Fine, I’ll leave you be, but please put something in your stomach before you do anything else. And don’t forget to take your sheets down to the laundry.” She eyed the pile of sheets, comforters, blankets, and towels Jaina had made on and around the bed, shaking her head. “Where did you even find all those? Your father was a nester, too. You must have got it from him.”

“I don’t need to know that,” Jaina grumbled.

“And what is that? A dagger?” Katherine strode over to the nest and picked up Xal’atath, studying it with a furrowed brow. “Ugly thing, isn’t it? I hope this wasn’t your secret lover’s idea of a courting gift.”

“It’s mine for now,” Jaina said. “I’m studying it.”

“While entertaining company? Well, I suppose you’ve always been a multi-tasker...”

“Mum, please.”

“All right,” Katherine sighed, setting Xal’atath on the edge of the bed. “I’m going. Eat, Jaina. And tell your mysterious lover she’s welcome to make herself known at any time.”

Jaina wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought she saw her mother glance briefly toward the closet before departing into the hallway.

No sooner had the bedroom door closed than the closet opened, revealing a rather reproachful looking Sylvanas amidst Jaina’s clothes. “Alleria?” She stalked out into the bedroom, sheets of muscle rippling along her slender frame.

Jaina shook herself to maintain focus. Her pulse had sped up considerably, and since her heart had pounded like a war drum during her mother’s interrogation, that was an impressive feat. “You know perfectly well you don’t have any competition from Alleria.”  _ Or anyone else, for that matter. _

“And what did she mean, ‘as long as it isn’t that Sylvanas Windrunner’? Is my reputation in Kul Tiras really as bad as all that?”

“That’s a trick question,” Jaina said. “You’ll sulk if I say it isn’t.”

“True,” Sylvanas drawled. “If your  _ Mum _ approved of someone like me, I would hardly be living up to my reputation as the terrifying and awe-inspiring Lady Death. Now, drink your tea.”

Jaina huffed, but picked up the cup and took a begrudging sip. It was warm and savory and good. Before she knew it, she’d devoured two biscuits as well.

“Eat some of that soup,” Sylvanas said. “I intend to leave you thoroughly exhausted before I actually slip out your window.”

“Fine,” Jaina said. “But only if you eat something as well.”

“I have no need for food,” Sylvanas reminded her.

Jaina grinned, unfastening the tie of her robe. “I know.”


End file.
